


Death of a beloved one

by uniabocetaP



Series: Tales of War [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family Relations, Gen, confronting the brother in law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniabocetaP/pseuds/uniabocetaP
Summary: Imrahil loses a sister.
Relationships: Denethor II/Finduilas of Dol Amroth, Imrahil & Finduilas, Imrahil & Ivriniel (Tolkien)
Series: Tales of War [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1310627
Kudos: 5





	Death of a beloved one

The day had come that she would leave them. She was beaming with happiness, which accentuated her natural beauty, her glossy sun tanned skin in healthy fight for attention with the rubies in her dark hair. It was midsummer's eve and the hour before sunset Finduilas would be married to Denethor in the hall of her forefathers.

The bride to be was in her room, surrounded by her family and friends. She was meant to leave both behind in search of a new life; in support of her husband. All were exuberant, but her little brother.

Imrahil had dared to ask his eldest sister, why Finduilas would wish to leave the sea and the pearly beatches for a stern city and an even sterner man.

Ivriniel had only laughed. "You are too young to understand".

"Understand what?"

"What love feels like". She laughed heartily till her eyes watered. "If you want to know what love looks like, you have but to look at your sister".

Imrahil had looked at his radiant Finduilas, the way she looked at him, the way she moved, the way she chattered for nothing else but him. Still, he could not understand why she loved him. In his young eyes and romantic soul there was nothing that qualified Denethor for a maiden's love. For a moment he thought to go and ask Finduilas for explanation, but Ivriniel beat him to it.

"I know you, young man" her face was serious all of a sudden. "Do not go and ask her things that will make her unhappy. You will regret it for the rest of your life. I will personally make sure of it".

At sixteen, the Heir of Dol Amroth still followed the rule that it is better not to cross your elder sister. Especially if that sister is as formidable as Ivriniel. However, he kept feeling haunted and worried, a premonition of sorts gnawed at the edge of his mind.

His feet brought him in front of the chamber Lord Denethor occupied for now. His hand hovered for a moment, unsure whether he wished to face his sister's fiance. Ivriniel's laughing face surfaced in his mind; surely he will mock him as well. Then, he remembered that she had said "she is in love", his sister had not made any insinuation about Denethor's feelings. Imrahil knocked on the door, because what songs had taught him was that unreturned love is dooming for the person who offers it.

Denethor opened the door to reveal a much quieter interior of the room than his sister's room. Only Denethor's older sister was present; she rose from her stool and left the chamber as Imrahil entered it.

"Can I help you, Prince?" Denethor's voice was even with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

None of the two men sat down. Imrahil tied his hands behind his back to hide his nervous twitching of the fingers. "In fact yes, you can". Denethor said nothing, letting the younger Prince to talk. "Everyone says that Finduilas is in love with you, but no one has said anything about you". Denethor cocked his head on the side, and Imrahil started talking faster as worry and regret filled him. "I just want my sister to be happy and well taken care of, she goes so far away from us. Ivriniel moved nearby Dol Amroth, we could always support her when she was... In despair. But poor Findi, I cannot think what could..." He took a deep breath. "What I want to say, my Lord Denethor, is that I wish to know if my sister will be happy with you".

Denethor's face changed and a rare display of emotion showed there. Imrahil could see that the softer expression on his face and he knew that the stern man loved his sister. "I understand. I have a sister of my own and I would give my life to protect her". His face became serious and looked Imrahil straight to the eye. "I love your sister and I promise to protect her. I promise to care for her to the best of my abilities". He sighed.

Imrahil smiled at the older man's words, his soul at ease again. "Thank you. This relieves some of my worry, even though I will not forgive you soon for taking her away".

Denethor laughed. "I am only human, I cannot be perfect, even though I strive to be".

####

The yearly Council meeting of Gondor occurred every November and it required the presence of all the great lords of the various fiefdoms. Usually, Imrahil had to stay behind and take care of Dol Amroth in his father's absence, but, this year, Ivriniel had intervened.

"Get Imri with you, I will stay behind" she had said. "He needs to experience the council under your tutolance more often". 

Something in her tone tipped him off that this was not the only reason. However, he knew his sister and decided not to press for a revelation. He counted on finding out what she meant when the time was right.

Once they arrived in the City of the Kings, Imrahil realised that the reason was their sister. Finduilas had been a vibrant wife and mother for the first years of her marriage, her laugh and joy echoed through the letters she sent them. The last six months, however, something had changed. He had not been able to grab the small difference, yet he knew it was there.

Findi had lost her color. He did not mean only her tan; how could she get a tan when she could not spend time outside? This was a huge difference but not essential. His sister had lost part of her mannerisms, vibrant tones and glee in the eye that made everyone love her for that. Her baby was sleepy in her lap; Faramir was not enough to cause a stir in her, there was something missing.

"Findi, what is wrong?" He tried to make her confide in him the same way she always did when they were little.

She took a moment to answer; she looked lost in her huge fur, sited bellow the oak tree. She could have been shedding parts of her the same way the tree shed its dead leaves. "Nothing is wrong. I am tired, and I miss the sea".

Imrahil sprung to his feet. "Then, we should talk to Denethor. He could allow you to join us for a while, we are also your family and you both need a vacation".

In the end, they waited for Adrahil to agree to help; the siblings knew it would be hard to bend the new Steward. Partly, he understood. Imrahil would not want to leave his seat once he was the ruling Prince. On the other had, his sister was fading away and there was naught to help her in the stone city.

Denethor's reluctance was gone once Imrahil reminded him, _you promised_. His voice was hard and pleading at the same time. The older man became softer, was he going to cry? No, how silly Imrahil was; of course the Steward would not cry.

"We will visit late spring. Perhaps, a few weeks by the sea would be good for all our healths".

A fraction of Findi's lost color returned along with the ghost of a smile. Imrahil parted ways with her a few days later thinking that she might be budding again in spring like an oak tree.

###

The news of her death swept away his reality like a tidal wave. How could it happen, _he_ had promised to bring her home. He had promised to protect her. She had promised to fight.

Imrahil did not express any of those questions that tore him from the inside; he kept his grief for himself, locked up behind blank expressions and muted replies.

The wind on his face was surprisingly sharp, like a knife cutting through his skin. He had been in the cold White City only but three months ago, and everything seemed the same, even though nothing was.

Finduilas was dead and nothing would be able to replace his sister in his heart.

Each member of his family had been processing grief in different ways; his cold and passive demeanor was the polar opposite of the endless tears and prayers Ivriniel had for the world. Somehow, the two siblings completed each other in their opposite ways. The eldest and the youngest were black and white and they had lost the grey that kept them together. It would take them years to get the balanced peace, which Finduilas maintained for them. They would get it back, in raw increments, increasing the understanding and love for their family.

Upon his arrival in the City, Imrahil was not surprised to find a very confused Faramir and a wailing Boromir. How could they understand what had happened? How can you explain the notion of death to children? He was surpried of how calm the Lord of the City looked.

Truth was that, since they received news of her death, Imrahil had been harboring anger. Anger for the futility of life, anger for how easy it was to die. Anger towards her, who she gave up, anger towards her husband who did not convince her not to give up.

Imrahil was now in the same room as Denethor, just the two of them. The older man was so passive and cold, as if nothing had happened. Now Imrahil's grief and anger boiled inside him and wanted to spill out and burn both of them to the bone.

_You broke your promise!_ He wished to accuse him.

_How did you manage to fail in your task?_ He wanted to demand.

_Did you ever love her?_ Was the blind observation.

"Why?" Imrahil asked finally, his voice caught in his throat.

Denethor did not shift in his chair, he could have been made out of stone. Minutes passed and the man in front of his eyes aged and crumbled. "I do not know. She slipped through my fingers..."

His voice was pained and sour full, his eyes held a river of emotions that Imrahil could not completely understand. Imrahil had lost a sister, Denethor had lost his soul mate. How could he have accuse him of breaking his promise? It was clear to him that he had done the best he could, was there any possibility that he could have saved her? The realization came too early, they were not ready to absolve the anger and guilt just yet, if they would ever be able to do so.

He placed a hand on Denethor's shoulder and they both sobbed quietly. There was not much left for any of them to say.

**Author's Note:**

> This story took flesh while fleshing out the stories for this series... It does not happen exactly during the war of the ring, but it connected with stories to come.


End file.
